


That Unwanted Animal

by Honey_Dewey



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, Blood, Coliseum fights, Crying, Death, Fighting, I promise it has a happy ending, Loss of Control, Major character death - Freeform, Nightmares, Other, Possession, Title and content based on a The Amazing Devil song, almost entirely angst, dismemberment?, kind of, lots of injury, organs are involved, the Devil - Freeform, we all sad here, where do I even start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Dewey/pseuds/Honey_Dewey
Summary: Months after the Devil, months after moving in with Muriel, some things start to go wrong...
Relationships: Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/You, muriel - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	That Unwanted Animal

**Author's Note:**

> IM SORRY
> 
> I FORGOT TODAY WAS MURIEL’S BIRTHDAY
> 
> AND THIS IS ALL I HAVE
> 
> Happy Birthday to my mountain husband! Time to make him suffer! 
> 
> Seriously tho, proceed with caution. 
> 
> Also, this was based heavily upon the The Amazing Devil song ‘That Unwanted Animal.’ Go give it a listen, I promise it’s worth it. It will also enhance the reading experience.

It was windy outside as you lay to sleep, Inanna tucked up practically on top of you. The protective charms out in the forest rattled faintly, the sounds of bones and rocks and twined together sticks making you shiver whenever they reached a bothersome volume. Muriel was still outside, feeding the chickens before bed, and if you concentrated hard enough, you could hear his footsteps approaching the hut. The door creaked open, then shut again, but you didn’t bother to turn and see who it was. You knew it was Muriel who shuffled in, dropping his cloak down and kicking his boots off. Only one person you knew had footsteps that heavy. He continued around the hut for a few minutes, getting everything ready for bed, until he stopped by the wooden wardrobe, shrugging out of his clothes and putting his boots away. Inanna rolled off your chest to see her master and as she did, the faint familiarness of the myrrh candle Asra had gifted the pair of you began to fill your senses. Muriel must’ve lit it, and you had half a mind to ask him if he meant to burn it all night. But by the time the words were on your tongue, He was rearranging furs into a suitable nest for Inanna, moving her so he could wrap around you in the bed. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” you murmured softly, rolling over under the thick fur blankets to meet his face. “How was Inanna today?”

“Good,” Muriel pressed his forehead into yours, enveloping you in his earthen smell. “How was the palace?”

You sighed. “Alright, I suppose. Nadia asked me to help her repair the damage done in the you-know-who incident, so I’ve had a very long, very taxing day. But I’ve slowly been meeting her family, so that’s nice.”

Muriel hummed, moving his head so his chin was resting on the top of your head. “Rest now, you sound like you need it,” he said, and you could feel the words rumbling through his chest. As you quickly slipped into sleep, you almost missed the words he breathed, magic laced and a perfect forest green.

“I love you.”

Your first bought of sleep was restful, but you woke after only an hour to find Muriel tracing patterns on your back, unable to open your eyes or move. With the flickering fire gone and the only light in the hut the myrrh candle, it was peaceful and dark enough for you to fall back into slumber. But not before hearing it.

The scratching at the door.

As your brain shut off, you could’ve sworn it got louder, insistent. But then, the wind and chimes drowned it out, and you realized, with a small jolt as you made the transition to dreaming, it was windy there too. The tornado strong winds swirled and cocooned you within their center, forcing you to meet him. Muriel stood, not six inches from your face, his hands gripping you, eyes unknowing and dark. He didn’t recognize you. You had seen this look very rarely, when he hunted. When he was about to make a kill.

“Be good to me,” You whisper, blinking your eyes shut and ghosting your fingers across his scarred cheek. When your eyes open, you were once again in the darkened hut, Muriel, your kind and relatively harmless Muriel, half asleep next to you.

“What?” He asks, blearily blinking at you, noticing how your breath quickened as you woke.

You shrug it off, shaking your head and curling closer into his chest. “Nothing dear,” you murmur into his skin. “Bad dream.”

Muriel took a deep breath, and held you a bit closer as you both fell asleep.

You woke again to a breeze, cool and wary, like the wind that brings thunder and rain. Unable to see beyond your blackened vision, you clapped your hands to your ears. The scratching, the insistent, demanding sound, wiggled into your head, echoing and flooding you with orders.

_Throw the blade at the wall_

And you do. Blindly taking the dagger in your hand, you throw it with with phantom memory, opening your eyes to finally see if you made your mark. But what meets your gaze is horrifying, more horrifying than you could’ve ever expected.

Muriel, with a bleeding nick in his ear, stands before you, eyes wide. You were standing on sand, stone walls surrounding you in a wide circle. Above you sit hundreds, if not thousands of spectators. You were in the Coliseum. It was bloody, the evidence of previous fights making your body hurt.

“Muriel!” You rushed forward, ignoring the still quivering dagger you’d thrown. But he shifted away, flinching from you with pained eyes. “Are you okay?”

He nods, eyes downcast. As you stared at him, you noticed his pupils seem impossibly wide, the black almost eclipsing the green. “Your eyes.”

“Yours too,” he grumbled, looking anywhere but at you.

You took a deep breath, shoving down the terror. “How long have you been here?” You reach up, wiping away tears and the beginnings of a bloody nose. “You look exhausted.”

“An hour, maybe more,” he says, still not meeting your eyes. “Fighting you.”

Before you can react, apologize or ask questions, the scratching returns, scraping at your ears and making you fall to your knees, hands clawing at your head. “Make it stop!”

But he can’t, dropping to the ground next to you, writhing in agony, face screwed up in what you can only assume is an attempt to stop the same noise you’re hearing.

The doors, all the doors separating the Coliseum cells from the arena, splinter. Shards of wood fly off, and from beneath the door crawls an impossibility familiar figure.

Muriel moves towards you as best he can, hugging you close. His eyes are almost entirely blackened, only the tiniest rim of green left. His skin is cold, and he growls, a harsh, low sound that you’ve only ever heard out of Inanna before.

“ _How cute,_ ” the Devil purrs, standing tall before you. “ _The Wolf protects his mate._ ” He lazily waved a hand, and Muriel stood, face slack.

You scream, crawling forward, trying to get to him, save him. “Muriel!”

But when he turns, his eyes are hollow, no more sunshine green to light up at you, to fill with love. Instead, all you see is black, a deep, desolate color, void of emotions.

He lunges at you, easily taking you down within minutes, despite your attempts to dodge. His knees pin your body to the sandy earth, fingers each tipped with a bear’s claw, sharpened to a deadly point.

When he sinks his hands into your chest, you barely feel the rip of skin and the tear of muscle, but there’s blood everywhere, painting the ground and turning everything either of you touch into a macabre piece of art. Muriel snaps your ribs, one by one, until he can easily rip your heart out.

You scream again, this time out of pain. But he’s blind to your agony as he leans in close, still clutching your heart. “It belongs to me,” he hisses possessively.

You watch, breathing ragged and horror filling the cavity in your chest, as Muriel takes a savage bite of the heart, blood dripping down his chin. He smiles, so unlike the soft smile he gives Inanna at night or the laughing smiles he gifts you whenever you find the ticklish spot behind his ears. This smile is cold, cruel. It’s bathed in blood as he continues to devour your heart, the heart that brought you back to life. He tosses the mangled remains aside once he decides he’s done, letting the heart that once belonged to him collect sand as it rolled across the arena.

The Devil clapped, lazy and proud. “ _Very well,_ ” he said. “ _But you have more fight than that, I assume._ ” He waved a hand, and just like that, your vision tunneled, going foggy and faint. But you could still see, still feel as you rose to your feet, another dagger in your hand. Muriel’s clouded eyes cleared, filling with pure horror as he took in what your current state was. But you, no matter how hard you cried out inside your body, couldn’t do anything but follow the Devil’s orders.

You unwillingly fought Muriel at the Devil’s command, both of you collecting injuries as he was forced to fight back, lest he die. You swept low, avoiding the heavy punch, and knocked into his knees, sending him buckling. But he rose quickly, using his sheer size as an advantage. The sun crept across the sky, every minute one minute closer to the end. For hours, you both fought, neither winning nor losing, the upper hand constantly switching.

Finally, finally it ended with you standing, broken, unbearably upset, and victorious above his slouched form. He hadn’t even put up a fight as you pressed his back into the ground with one foot, his eyes full of nothing but love for you. He breathed, tiny and ragged and scared beyond belief, as you mercilessly plunged your dagger into his chest, directly into his heart.

The Devil released his grip on you just as the wound began to ooze, allowing your hands to grow slick with his still warm blood as you slumped overtop Muriel’s lifeless form, animalistic screams of agony echoing in the open space.

Meaningless words bubbled off your lips, pleads and begs to any god you could think of, prayers for Muriel to rise, dust himself off and carry you home. Home. You felt so weak, chest aching and body battered as you gave up, resigning yourself to die by his side, but not before saying one last thing. “Be good.”

As your life slipped out of your hands, you could’ve sworn you heard him reply. “No no, not I.”

You woke up screaming, a hard wall to your left, and a cliff’s drop to your right. As you thrashed, the wall wrapped you up, and you realized with shuddering breath, you’d just woken up. Muriel was holding you, calming the shaking and pulling you back into yourself.

“Muriel,” You whimpered. “Muriel, are you okay?” Your hands scrambled with his shirt, checking his chest. Scars, warm skin, and no blood. It was all just a dream.

He nodded, murmuring soft reassurances, but as you turned to look, you saw blood on his face. Just a smear below his eye, but it was worrying all the same. “Did I hurt you?”

He smiled, kind and small. “Just a scratch,” he said. “As you woke up.”

You sat up, ignoring the phantom ache to your chest. “Let me fix it.”

Muriel sat obediently and dead silent as you cleaned the cut and put a bandage below his eye. He put a hand to his cheek, and then held his arms out.

You fell into them, finally sobbing. “I’m so sorry!”

He shook his head. “No need,” he insisted, wiping your every tear. “I forgive you.”

Somehow, that made you sob harder, your harsh cries waking Inanna, who ambled over and curled protectively around you. She huffed, resting her head in your lap, and Muriel carefully laid you down, still cuddled up to him and Inanna.

You sighed, exhausted despite the rising sun filling the hut with lines of orange light. “Let’s just stay in bed today.”

Muriel laughed. “I like that plan,” he agreed. “But no more bad dreams, my love.”

You smiled. “Will do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was sorry...
> 
> 💚💚💚💚


End file.
